


Take Care Sam

by UltimateOptimist



Series: Sam Seaborn hurt/comfort series [1]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, Chronic Illness, Exhaustion, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:01:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26198263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateOptimist/pseuds/UltimateOptimist
Summary: I just like Vulnerable Sam.....Part 1 in the series.Sam has a chronic illness which is playing up.
Relationships: C. J. Cregg/Sam Seaborn, Donna Moss/Sam Seaborn, Josh Lyman/Sam Seaborn, Sam Seaborn/Toby Ziegler
Series: Sam Seaborn hurt/comfort series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902520
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	Take Care Sam

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm a new convert to the WW - Only on the 8th episode of the second series and I just love Sam Seabourn.....I love hurt/comfort so this series was born
> 
> Disclaimer: Don't belong to me
> 
> Also I do not mean to belittle anyone who suffers from IBS, I work in the medical field - so it's something I come across but appreciate every person who suffers will have a different experience and I do not mean any disrespect.

There are 3 million people in the USA who suffer from IBS. 1 in 3 suffers are male – Sam Seabourne is one of them. He vaguely ponders this as he sits in his office – blankly looking at the screen. He was diagnosed with it in his teens – and has managed it pretty well since. He knowns his limits well – he tries to avoid greasy food, manages his stress level (a more pressing issue since he moved to the white house), stays hydrated. He takes the jibes of his friends and colleagues when he chooses salads over burgers, and often lets CJ steals his fries if he has a sandwich – an unspoken agreement between them. He doesn’t really discuss it with anyone – sure some days he wakes up with an upset stomach, but he takes his medication and goes about his day. Since starting full time work his time off for flares has been seldom – he’s aware how lucky he is compared to so many who have no choice but to be absent.

  
After 13 months in the Whitehouse he’s gone home early once, most of his flares have been over a weekend which leaves him miserable - but it is easier to cope with because he doesn’t always have to work. Apart from an awful week on the campaign trial, he’s never really had much of a problem, unfortunately he can’t help but feel the streak is coming to an end.

Lately his stomach has been giving him more trouble then he cares to admit – today he woke up tired nauseous and uncomfortable and it’s been the 8th day or so that this has been going on, leaving him drained. Sam’s aware CJ has noticed – she keeps looking at him funny when he picks at half a sandwich, or the fact he keeps booking meetings over lunch so he has an excuse not to eat lunch then admit that he’s not feeling great, and he hasn’t been to the toilet in almost a week. He isn’t embarrassed – this is like Toby’s migraines, just something he has to deal with. He just cannot bear the hovering – he is already the youngest and least politically experienced – he is very aware he is nearly always the last to know about things, often kept out of the loop until needed. He doesn’t need them knowing this too – another excuse to leave him out.

  
“C’mon Spanky let’s go” CJ shouts from the door, startling him from his musing. As he jumps he hits his knee on the desk.

  
He hisses in pain as the jolt jostles his already painful stomach.

  
“You ok?” She looks at him – the question loaded – she’s noticed how drawn he is. His face looks thinner, like he’s not been eating well (but then they’ve shared enough lunches for her to know that he isn’t.) They’re all frustrated and tired – its not quite been the 13 months they had hoped although things are looking more steadily up.

  
“Yeah,” Sam smiles good naturedly – trying to play on his known clumsiness and ignore the loaded look.

“C’mon let’s not make Leo wait”

  
XXXXXXXXX  
Turns out luck isn’t on his side. A week after his stomach settles it starts again. Its just days until the state union speech and Sam wakes up feeling awful – again. It’s his third signifcant flare up in 4 weeks and just the sheer exhaustion he feels is enough to make him want to cry in frustration – let alone the stomach pain. He lays for several minutes after the alarm – aware he is cutting it fine to be on time for work – on time in Sam’s world is at least an hour early, but he’s just too tired to care.

  
The pain centers over his belly button like always – a gnawing pain, deep seated. He feels uncomfortably bloated again, and the nausea which this type of attack causes is heavy set and uncomfortable – not an am-i-going-to-vomit type nausea but more the type which makes you restless, and drains you. His stomach feels uncomfortably full, and he notices a sense of heartburn which only comes with late night meals. He sighs and pushes himself up as his alarm repeats again.

  
The cramps hit hard as soon as he is vertical. Severe and relentless and it’s all he can do to just sit there for a few minutes to try and catch his breath. Not nearly soon enough it passes, and Sam wonders how on earth he can manage to last today – but calling in sick is not an option.

  
He knew he shouldn’t have tried to eat the Chinese last night – but the senior staffers were in until 11 and he was for once hungry, and too tired to suggest somewhere else when everyone else agreed. He and Toby had stayed for another hour working on the address and Sam’s had approximately 4 hours sleep as he slept restlessly. Too busy thinking about the speech, and about the increasing discomfort in his stomach. He can’t help but burp as a particularly painful pain hits – grimacing at the taste in his mouth he sighs when his pager bleeps from his table – it’s Toby’s office number.

  
Today is going to be a long day as he painfully pushes himself up to take a shower.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

  
Sam almost drops the pen when an all-familiar stomach pain hits as he signs in. The pain burns and he knows he’s going to need the bathroom ASAP. Toby's paged again on his way over but he really can't bring himself to care.

  
“You ok Mr Seabourn?” The guard asks, noticing how pale he is.

  
“Fine,” He forces a thin smile, nods a goodbye and hurries down the corridor

  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

  
“Where’s Sam?” Leo asks the senior staff as he walks into his own office – they have a meeting with the president in 5minutes but Leo wanted a quick briefing first.  
Toby already looks frustrated – he hasn’t seen his deputy yet despite his page, and their deadline is ever approaching. Josh doesn’t quite manage to hide the sigh – which tells CJ all she needs to know. They are all stressed, tired and annoyed – Sam is the easy target as always for the two more senior men to aim their mood at. She cannot help but feel for the younger man at the moment – he’s had a few hard hits lately, and he looked so tired all of last week. His face constantly pinched when not schooled into careful smiles and subtly forced optimism.

  
CJ immediately replies with, “He’s been in his office this morning, he’ll be on his way.” It’s true the press secretary had seen him walking down the corridor of the west wing earlier this morning looking a little worse for wear.  
As if on cue he appears, as pristine as ever except the slight furrow of his brow, “Sorry, was held up”

Toby doesn’t even attempt to hide his eye roll.

  
XXXXXXXXXXXXX

  
“Rough week Samshine?” CJ asks from the doorframe, trying to hide her concern as she spies the youngest in his chair eyes closed, drawn and pale. Bonnie had dropped something off in her office and asked CJ if she thought Sam was ok. That, plus his withdrawn behaviour at senior staff – offering no words over the 10 or so to confirm his workload and day was enough to send some alarm bells ringing.

  
Sure this is Sam – who doesn’t know his limits, who thinks it’s normal to be an hour early every day no matter what time he leaves the night before. Although they can all be guilty of that Sam can be the worst. He seemed more determined to fight and argue then ever the last few months – as the senior staff and president hit the middle of the road he seems more determined to be the moral compass and for that he gets his fair share of kickback from Leo, Josh and Toby – not always justified. Then this past month its like the fight has left him a little - and the younger man has had his fair share of stress lately. Leo shouting at him for using initiative , Toby’s stress coming out as criticism, the death penalty conviction he had tried so hard to fight. He’s work as always is excellent, and despite the sometimes irritating optimism, he cannot be faulted too much after all he handled Mendoza excellently. The last 3 weeks or so she’s noticed he’s been a little more withdrawn, less Sam lately. She misses it. She misses him.

  
Sam doesn’t even hear her – he’s too busy fighting another wave of pain and trying to hide the fact that embarrassingly he has probably spent more time in the bathroom today then sitting at his desk. He is exhausted, and a little lightheaded and terrified that when Toby comes in and sees how little progress he has made on their what has to be 10th draft of the Union speech. His hand is hovering just over his belly button, as if the slight pressure would be enough to help against the pain in it. Normally as his stomach gets emptier the feelings start to pass but this is one of the worst flares he has had in 18 months or so and it couldn’t be at a worst time.  
“Sam?” This time the lightness of her tone is gone, she steps into the room and shuts the door behind her. As she gets closer she can see just how pale the younger man is, and how his forehead is wrinkled as if he is in pain.  
“Sam?” This time she touches his arm, and is close enough to see the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead.

  
This is enough to grab his attention, he blinks his eyes open, surprised and embarrassed to be caught practically sleeping on the job, two days before one of the biggest state events.

“Sorry CJ what?” He asks, wiping a weary hand across his face, trying to ignore the slight tremor of it.

  
CJ spots it and leans gently against his desk, “I came to see if you were ok?”

  
“Uh yeah, tired…”He shrugs realising he can’t just say he is fine.

  
“Uh-huh so why is Bonnie so concerned about you she knocked on my office door?” CJ asks bluntly.

  
Realising he has been rumbled Sam sighs, “I’m ok just….there’s a lot going on here”

  
“There’s always a lot going on” CJ replies flatly, concerned at the flash of pain across Sam’s face and the way his hand is protectively resting on his stomach. His complexion is almost grey by now.  
“I uh….” Sam can’t even speak as a particularly viscous pain hits instinctively he pulls his legs up onto the chair and leans his head forward to rest on his knees. The room is spinning and he feels hot all of a sudden.  
CJ jumps into action at that, keeping a steady hand on his arm, rubbing soothing circles she uses her cellphone to call Bonnie’s desk – asking for a bottle of water and for her to be discreet coming into Sam’s office. The assistant is back within a minute – eyes full of concern but silent and she enters and leaves the office ensuring the door is shut.

  
“Sam, you’re starting to worry me” CJ admits as he goes for another minute with no talking. The pain begins to ease, and Sam tries to relax in his chair, ignoring the way the room is spinning around him lazily as he does so. He doesn’t dare move his legs yet though but he feels steady enough to lift his head.

“I have IBS, it’s not normally so bad but…today it’s bad” he admits exhaling and closing his eyes again as the room begins to speed up.

  
CJ’s surprised – she’s never really seen Sam sick before, the odd cold here and there like them all but he’s never been off, or looked particularly off colour. However now she knows – the subtle signs have been there all along. How did they miss this?

  
“How you feeling now?” She asks, holding out the water as her words get his attention. The rest of her questions can wait until later.

Sam decides it’s better just to be honest – “Lightheaded, nauseated, stomach pain, upset stomach. It happens like this some days. Not for a while but well it’s triggered by diet and stress” he shrugs trying not to focus on the Chinese they all ate last night, or how many hours he’s lived here over the past few weeks. CJ cannot help but smile – typical Sam trying to play it all down.

  
“Well it’s not like you have a stressful job or anything” She mutters, Sam huffing a very tired laugh.

  
“You running on empty?” CJ asks knowingly why Sam was late this morning, and why she sees a very blank looking new draft on his desk.

  
“Yeah” Sam admits.

  
“C’mon lets get you horizontal somewhere,” CJ demands.

  
“I can’t…we’re two days away from the State Union, there’s no speech, Toby’s going to kill me for lying down” Sam sighs wearily resting his head on his knees once again, trying to desperately gain some strength back.

  
“Honey I don’t think you’re going to have a choice soon, you’re really not looking great. Besides Toby is at a meeting on the hill for another two hours,” CJ pushes. “Let’s go lie down in his office.”

  
As soon as he stands the room spins and he grips the desk hard as his knees buckle. Sam has no idea what is happening, all he can hear is the roaring in his ears. CJ steadies him and pulls his desk chair behind him, worried at how pale he is. Gently she pushes him down and when seated pushes his head down between his knees.

  
“Deep breathes Sam,” She coaches, rubbing circles on his back. She takes his desk phone and calls Charlie – asking if the first lady is around (CJ knows she is,) and if she can pop by Sam’s office as soon as she can.  
After several moments Sam is able to speak, “I’m ok,” he protests voice hoarse. He really doesn’t want a fuss especially not here, not now.

  
“You are not.” CJ states bluntly, passing him a bottle of water. He finally lifts his head up and leans against the back of the chair. Sam opens his mouth but before either can say anything further Mrs Bartlet enters the room, medical bag in hand. Sam tries to take a sip of water but it only increases the nausea he is feeling. CJ frowns at just how much his hand is shaking.

  
“CJ? Sam? What’s going on?”

  
“Sam’s sick, and almost passed out” CJ explains.

“Stomach Sam?” The first lady asks knowingly, suprising CJ who lifts an eyebrow at the first lady. The doctor subtly shrugs - Abby had known since she caught him in a flare up during the campaign. She had discreetly helped out when he wasn’t feeling so well on the road.

  
“Yeah,” Sam sighs, resting his elbows on his knees and cradling his head in his hands as a wave of nausea washes over him.

  
“How long?” Abby asks, pulling a BP machine out of her bag and wrapping the cuff around his arm.

  
“Just today, but it’s the third one this month” he admits quietly. CJ still hears the conversation surprised – Sam has never missed a day, or seemed to be struggling – how many days did he come into work in pain and no-one notice it?

  
“Think I’m going to be sick,” Sam mumbled hand hovering near his mouth. Abby manages to start the machine, and grab the waste bin in one smooth motion in time for Sam to dry heave over it.

  
“Breathe Sam,” she coaches as he dry heaves again. The machine beeps, and she takes a look.

  
“Well Sammy-boy, you’re blood pressure is in your boots which means you’re dehydrated and that’s why you feel so awful. So you need to lie down, drink some fluids and forget about the speech for the next few hours and if you cannot stand up by then you’re going to GW.” She explains firmly, pushing back his hair off his forehead.

  
“Toby is going to kill me,” Sam muttered, cradling his head. CJ doesn’t think she has ever seen their deputy communication’s officer sound so despondent. She knows he’ll be taking it as a personal failure that he is unwell.  
“Well Spanky he’ll just have to deal with it, we need you conscious and vertical to do that” CJ steps in, crouching next to his chair. Sam just sighs in response.

  
She tries a softer approach, “Sam – you’re unwell and exhausted. This is not your fault ok? The timing sucks yeah but we have a few days yet, let’s focus on getting you feeling better ok? We like you better conscious and able to speak more then just single sentences.”

  
Sam looks up from the trash can, “Ok” he sighs resignedly. The brunette aware that he really doesn’t have a choice – his body is calling all of the shots now. He feels hot again, and loosens his tie.

  
“When you’re ready we’re going to walk to Toby’s sofa, then I’m going to grab my work from the office and stand ground so no-one disturbs you.”

  
Sam doesn’t even try to protest, the worst of the nausea has eased but the idea of walking across his own office and into Toby’s office feels like a marathon. He feels as if his energy is literally draining out him as he sits.

  
“Ok let’s go,” the first lady decides, as if reading his mind. Sam stands with the grace of a newborn deer, and blows out a breath as his body tries to adjust to the new position. He walks on shaky legs to his boss’s office, the couch in there has never looked so good.

  
“Sam, drink some” Abby pushes a bottle of water, “Slow sips…when you’ve had half we can get you laid down.” She pulls at his tie, carefully watching his pallor just incase….Abby isn’t sure that he isn’t going to pass out. Sam sits compliant – and that makes CJ worry because he must be feeling pretty awful. After several minutes he manages the meagre amount of water and kicks his shoes off. The two woman watch him get comfortable in silence.

  
“Sleep tight Sammy-boy,” Abby sighs quietly and looks to CJ.

  
“Keep an eye on him, his blood pressure really is a bit low” Abby warns. “Let me know if he’s no better in the next few hours or get worse…but CJ he should really be at home.”

  
“Yeah like he’ll go home,” CJ sighs, “I’ll bring some work here, take the phone of the hook. Thanks Mrs Bartlet”

  
“Please at time likes like this it’s Abby,” She smiles, she nods and leaves.

  
XXXXXXXX

  
CJ sighs as she finishes one task only to start the next. Senior white house staff job lists are endless. Sam hasn’t moved for the last hour since he fell asleep. He woke up briefly 30minutes after the first lady left, feeling sick again but after some more water and a little Gatorade it had passed and some of his colour had game back. She’s distracted as she hears Toby’s voice in the bullpen, she stands quickly and walks over to the desk just as he opens the door.

  
“Why is my deputy communications manager asleep….”His voice is already getting louder, grabbing the attention of the bullpen. CJ sighs internally – so much for discretion. CJ glares at him and pushes the brunette out of the door way gently, ushering him into Sam’s office before he wakes up the youngest member of the team.

  
“Sssssh” CJ hisses as she does so.

  
“Seriously? We haven’t locked the speech in – it’s less then two days away and Sam is sleeping?!” Toby’s voice is frustrated, but noticeably quieter and CJ realises how tired they all are.

  
“Doctor Bartlet’s orders….Sam’s sick, he came in anyway and nearly passed out in his office” CJ explains – deciding not to give the details on what their friend is sick with. Toby groans and huffs in frustration. His eyes widen – telling her to explain more.

  
“It was either sleep and drink some water here or go to hospital so yes Toby Sam is asleep, and has been for the last hour.” She finishes firmly. “If he cannot stand up without nearly passing out then it’s the hospital for rehydration…” she explains in a more softer tone.

  
Toby deflates at that. As frustrated as he is at the timing he cannot blame his deputy for this. It really is just unlucky.

  
“Well if that doesn’t sum up our luck” Toby huffs folding himself into Sam’s chair rubbing his brow. CJ winces internally – Toby doesn’t often get like this – sure he yells, he is sarcastic and he rants but when he is quiet that’s when they all know the strain is getting to him.

  
“Yeah,” CJ agrees. “Look I need to wake him up anyways, the first lady was serious about getting him to drink some more water. If he’s less dizzy he’ll probably want to try and work. He felt really bad about the speech Toby.”

  
“He was that bad?” Toby asks, concerned.

  
“You know Sam – work until you drop is his motto….literally” CJ smirks.

  
Toby chuckles a slight tone of affection to it. “Think he’ll feel better if you do it.”

  
CJ takes the hint and leaves as Toby picks up the draft on Sam’s desk.

  
XXXXXXXX

  
Sam’s curled up into a ball on his side, arm across his eyes the other cradling his sore stomach.

  
“Sam, Sam” CJ put a gentle hand on his shoulder. Sam sighs as he hears her and looks up at her behind long eye lashes.

  
“You hanging in there? Toby’s back” CJ asks. That seems to wake up the deputy.

  
“Yeah,” slowly he pulls himself up into a somewhat sitting position, legs still bent up. He takes an inventory of how he is feeling – he feels less lightheaded and nauseous now he’s drank some water and Gatorade but he still feels terrible. His head is aching, and he feels wrung out.

  
CJ pushes another bottle of water and juice towards him on the desk – a not so suitable hint that has Sam almost rolling his eyes if he had the energy.

  
Toby walks in as Sam takes a sip of juice, concerned at how pale he still looks. He eyes his deputy as he reads the relatively untouched draft.

  
“Ready to get this speech locked in?” He asks plainly, but Sam can read his boss, and friend, he’s clearly concerned.

  
“Yeah, as long as I don’t have to move” Sam offers shifting his legs so his feet are sitting on the floor, grimacing at the pull in his stomach as he does so.  
“We can arrange that” Toby agrees, tossing him a legal pad out of his desk.

  
XXXXXXXX

  
“That’s perfect Sam,” Toby praises as they add another line to the speech. Sam smiles softly and lets his head rest on the sofa. He sighs as he doodles on the legal pad, he’s fading now – the pair have been working for the last two hours and the headache at Sam’s temples has been gradually building for the last hour. He’s managed to drink another bottle of water and half of the juice CJ left but it’s sitting uncomfortably in his stomach. He lets his eyes shut for a moment. The two really have made a lot of progress but the draft needs to be done today, so the president can read it tomorrow and Sam has another meeting today regarding the amendments to the environmental bill.

  
“When’s your next meeting?” Toby asks, eyeing up the younger man. Toby cannot fault him – Sam has done nothing but make consistently good amendments after a slow start but he can tell his deputy is fading a little.

“2pm” Sam sighs – this feels like the longest day. He would push it, but he’s already cancelled their meeting twice, due to last minute emergencies, and they are one or two prominent congress people whom support they need to pass it.

“Why don’t we take a few minutes? It’s only 12…we can pick this up after you lie down for a bit longer” Toby suggests.

  
“No let’s keep going….we’re on a roll” Sam insists, slipping off his glasses and rubbing his face wearily.

  
“Ok then let’s take 5 for lunch,” Sam cannot hide his grimace, “Or coffee/water” Toby looks pointedly at the juice on the table – Sam can’t deny he feels better with a little bit of sugar in his system.

  
“I don’t understand why he has to be so difficult” Josh huffs as he storms into Tony’s room, tugging at his tie, suit rumpled and sits next to Sam.

  
Tony raises his eyebrows from his page, “Well sure Josh you aren’t interrupting us….”

  
Sam grins at his boss.

  
“Smithson?” Sam guesses, looking at how tense their deputy chief of staff is.

  
“He agreed but he makes you practically beg” Josh sighs wearily leaning forward, hands resting on his thighs.

  
“How’s the speech going?” He asks, brow furrowing when he spots how pale his friend is beside him.

  
“Good we’re making good progress,” Sam replies, deliberately avoiding the questioning look.

  
“But I need food…want to head to mess and come back here?” Toby asks Josh as he puts his legal pad down.

  
“Sure, Sam you coming?” Josh asks.

  
“Not hungry, grab me a water?” Sam tries to shrug off internally wincing as Josh’s face morphs into concern.

  
“You ok? You look….awful” Josh finally takes a moment to look at his friend. Sam is never rumpled – even on the road he manages to look every inch the professional, but right now his tie is loose, he has his shoes off and he is pale.

  
“Upset stomach,” Sam pushes himself, faltering for a moment as the room spins. Now he’s standing he’s got an urge to pee – which is something he’s actually relieved at as it means he isn’t as dehydrated as they all thought. Sam forges on putting his shoes on and adjusting his tie. Ignoring the slow spinning of the room.

  
Josh raises his eyebrows at Toby, who in turns shrugs.

  
“C’mon lets go, I’ll see you in 10” He tells Sam.

  
XXXXXXXXXXXX

  
“Samshine look at you,” CJ grins as she spots him returning to his office. “Standing and everything.”

  
Sam rolls his eyes with a good natured grin – the short walk down the corridor didn’t feel quite as bad as he did and it helped to blow away some of the cobwebs.

  
“I brought you a gift” CJ smiles, passing him a pack of saltines and goldfish crackers from her jacket pocket. She’s relived to see him mobile, and clearly feeling better then he did a few hours ago – although it’s clear he is in no way 100%.

  
Sam huffs a laugh – “you shouldn’t have.”

  
“Well I bought you lunch.” Cj shrugs with a smile.

  
“Come eat with me then” Sam sighs tiredly gesturing to his office.

  
XXXXXXXXXXXX

  
Sam tries really hard to focus on the group in front of him – he would normally be hanging on their every word – wondering what facts he could counter argue with but his head is aching and he is tired. He bites back a sigh as he takes his glasses off, rubbing at this eyes.

  
Toby watches from the glass door of the Roosevelt room – concerned. Sam looks pale, tired and drawn. He is clearly loosing focus to anyone who actually knows Sam. Sure enough the deputy communications manager looks politely interested, but Toby can see by the slight squint of his left eye he has a headache, and his fingers are tapping the table lightly as he listens.

  
As Sam’s shoulders drop, and he rubs his eyes for the third time in the 5 minutes he’s been watching Toby decides to step in. He knocks on the glass door.

  
“Excuse me, Sam I need a minute” Toby interrupts politely.

  
“Excuse us” Sam turns to look at him, relief evident in his eyes which just confirms Toby’s suspicion that Sam’s day needs to be over.

  
“What’s up?” Sam asks, as steps out, immediately leaning against the wall of the hallway – clearly tired.

  
“I’m going to wrap this up, and you are going home.” Toby states calmly.

  
“I have to debrief Leo,” Sam sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We don’t have the speech.”

  
“We have most of it,” Toby counters calmly. “Sam, you’re dead on your feet – let’s debrief Leo now and then you can get a good 7 hours of sleep. We can have tomorrow morning, early to finish. You’re done.” The tone leaves no room for argument, but Toby can see his deputy has no fight left in him.

  
“Ok,” Sam breathes out, closing his eyes for a second. Toby squeezes his shoulder, and leaves the hallway to let their guests know. Sam sighs and wearily makes his way to Leo’s office.

  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

  
“I….uh….” Sam’s in the middle of is sentence as Toby steps into Leo’s office. Toby can sense Leo’s concerns from the doorway. Sam’s clearly exhausted, glasses dangling from his hand the other running through his hair. Sam’s gaze is purely on his shoes – something he does when he is really having to concentrate. The chief of staff glances up as Toby enters, eyebrows raised.

  
“I got it Sam thanks,” Leo saves him from the floundering. He knows Toby will fill him in later – even as sick as he is, Sam managed to convince another two votes. It’s odd to watch his deputy communications manager having so much trouble…well communicating. Sam just nods, finally raising his eyes to meet his boss.

  
“You alright?” An edge of concern in his voice.

  
“It’s been a really long few weeks,” Sam replies sighing. He feels 100% exhausted, and he is still feeling queasy, although much better then he did this morning.

  
“He’s sick, and he is going home” Toby translates for him instead. Leo’s face morphs into concern and understanding.

  
“Rest up Sam” Leo squeezes his arm, a clear dismissal in his tone. 

  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

  
Sam tugs at his bowtie for the third time in the last 30mins or so – he really hates the bowtie.

  
The first lady smiles as she spots him, and instantly puts a halt to her conversation before her to excuse herself.

  
“Sam,” She greets him warmly with a hug. “How are you doing?”

  
Sam blushes remembering just a short 36 hours ago, “much better Ma’am thanks”

  
“I’m glad,” she smiles, but Sam knows she’s secretly assessing him. He knows he still doesn’t look 100%, a little pale, little appetite and avoiding coffee. It shows, the strain of the past 6 weeks or so – he is thinner and looks tired.

  
“You still need to see your primary doctor, and get some rest” Abby tells him seriously.

  
“I will,” he promises – knowing that in all likelihood he won’t.

  
“Well if you excuse me, I suppose I better mingle”

  
“Rather you then me Ma’am” he smiles eyes twinkling. Abby just chuckles and leaves him be.

  
He stands with a sigh, watching the room for a little while. It’s nice sometimes to just stand back and watch, not have to socialise or force polite conversation – truth the ever-lingering fatigue he is suffering from makes his head fuzzy, he can’t really think of any polite conversation.

  
“You hiding in plain sight?” Josh’s voice asks from behind him. 

“Yeah,” Sam sighs with a smile. Since Josh drove home he’s been hovering, checking in and making sure he is doing ok.

  
“Rough week huh?” Josh comments lightly - the tone offering Sam the option of discussing things if he wants. Sam had told him about his IBS, and he wonders whether from now on Josh will be keeping a closer eye on him.

  
“Yeah, I just…I think I’m just going head out after the address, take the weekend off” Sam replies – that alone telling Josh he is still feeling rough.

“Sure, rest up ok – we need you firing on all cylinders” Josh squeezes his shoulder and lets him be, he changes his mind at the last second or so. “Sam….if I can help…” he starts looks a bit awkward.

  
“Thanks Josh, but I’m ok….really just need a weekend off.” Sam reassures him. As he spots CJ laughing with Toby, and Donna watching him carefully he cannot help but smile. He’s grateful for the team around him, his friends.

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many plot bunnies for this if anyone wants it continued....


End file.
